


sugar and peaches, frozen mangoes and grenadine

by cattchi



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Dancing, Grinding, Lance (Voltron) Speaks Spanish, M/M, Oral Sex, Recreational Drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 01:06:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7664347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cattchi/pseuds/cattchi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>it's their last night on a rescued planet, and Lance is in Party Mode™ but Keith doesn't want to dance</p>
            </blockquote>





	sugar and peaches, frozen mangoes and grenadine

**Author's Note:**

> idek what to say?? sorry probably haha.. i'm still working hard on improving my writing (^0^)9 kinda nervous bc of how popular klance is wow!! i'm so glad that this ship has so much content to offer! :D
> 
> the title holds the main ingredients for one of my favourite drinks!~

Thank god partying culture was universal,  and thank god this planet they rescued insisted on them extending their stay. Lance missed this, honestly. Loud music, heated dancing, and cold drinks.

“Speaking of,” Lance says to himself, thoughts slipping out more easily than they would if he were sober. Maybe. He knows he talks a lot. He winks at the alien he was dancing with, maybe gives Hunk’s bum a squeeze when he passes him, and dances his way through the rest of the crowd towards the bar, where he last saw Shiro and Keith having a loser sober party. Lance tried to flirt Keith into dancing, but so far he wasn’t having any luck. That boy didn’t have one party bone in his body.

He times in at the end of their conversation, where Keith is oh so brilliantly stating that Shiro is drinking water.

“LAME!” Keith turns as Lance announces his presence in front of them. “Order something fun! I’ll get it for you, the bartender keeps giving me discounts! It’s because I’m hot.”

“I’m good, Lance. I have to get you and your lions back to the castleship safely tonight.” Shiro says. “But Keith was just saying he wanted a drink. To loosen him up a bit before dancing, you know.”

“Keith?” Lance laughs, eyebrows lifted high in surprise. “Yeah right, are you sure that’s water you’ve got there, Shiro?”

“I told you I’m not dancing!” Keith says, clicking his tongue.

“It’s healthy to take a break, you know.” Shiro says seriously. Too serious for the party vibe Lance is trying not to lose.

Keith shrugs. “Can’t dance anyways.”

“Lance could teach you.” Shiro says, nodding at him. Lance balks. That was unexpected. No way he’s drinking water. Or maybe Shiro was just the kind of guy to get drunk off the atmosphere, but that seemed even more unlikely.

“I’m not gonna teach him!” Lance refuses on impulse. But he glances at Keith and in the low light is reminded of the fact that he’s kind of very, very beautiful. “Actually-”

“No.” Keith says. “I know what you’re gonna say, and I’m not interested.”

“Shiro, do you see this?” Lance says, gesturing dramatically at Keith, all of a foot away from him. “He doesn’t want to team bond with me.”

“I thought we were supposed to be ‘taking a break’” Keith says, his words directed more at Shiro. Lance pouts, and turns his gaze to their leader as well.

“Guys…” Shiro sighs. Lance figures he’s not really in the mood to be a dad right now, and honestly, Keith is kinda killing his good mood. He’s probably like, emo introspection, 70% of the time. 

“I’m gonna check up on Pidge, to make sure she isn’t doing something illegal.” Shiro says, standing. Lance knows he means illegal like ‘mass unauthorized reprogramming’ and not ‘underage space beer taste testing’. “Be good, boys.”

“He’s such a dad.” Lance grins after him. “Even when he’s trying to relax. Anyways, Mullet Man, what are you gonna have to drink?”

Lance shoves an unsettlingly sticky drink menu into Keith’s hands. He stares at it for a bit, and Lance realizes he probably has no idea what he’s working with.

“Are you gonna choose already or what?” Lance asks, huffing. He throws an arm over Keith’s shoulder, and points to the fourth drink on the menu. “This one is good, but a little strong. Any idea what you might like?”

“No.” Keith says, honestly. 

“Well go with something fruity. If it’s too sugary you might get sick, but these ones are honestly pretty good. They taste like nothing but they really pack a punch.” Lance says, skimming his long finger down the page. “This one, this one, or this one. Now just choose from those.”

“How many have you had?” Keith asks, turning his face just slightly. He’s really close, or rather, Lance realizes  _ he’s _ really close to Keith. Blame it on the alcohol, or whatever.

“Two.” Lance says. “I’m not a lightweight, though it  _ has _ been a while. And this is alien shit so it’s a whole other ballpark. Start with one, pretty boy.”

Lance grins when Keith rolls his eyes at the comment, but in the dim light he can still see him blush. It makes Lance’s stomach turn and his body warm.

“What’s in the frozen white russian?” Keith asks, squinting at the menu.

“White russian.” Lance says, but he’s not even being snarky, he’s just a little too drunk to explain further. Keith snorts at him, and Lance pauses, then smiles. They can get along, a lot of the time. Maybe not most of it, but Lance favours playful banter over arguments that stem from his own insecurity and Keith’s inability to open up to people. But now isn’t the time for grating self introspection, so Lance looks expectantly at Keith for his choice of drink.

“I’ll have the orange one.” Keith says after a moment. He tucks his stupid hair behind his ear. Lance runs his fingers through his own, grimacing slightly at the sweat. 

“Which one?” Lance asks, looking at Keith’s options. “‘Sex on the Beach’ or a ‘Kiss on the Lips’? Personally, I like both.” That’s a lie though, because once he gave someone a blowjob on the beach and there was  _ way _ too much sand involved.

Keith just points to the menu insistently, but Lance isn’t having any of that.

“Which one?” Lance asks again, tone teasing, now.

Keith rolls his eyes and speaks through his teeth, locking eyes with Lance solidly. “I want a ‘Kiss on the Lips’.” 

Hearing Keith say it makes Lance flush, but he keeps his teasing smile, and he can’t help it if his eyes flit to his mouth. Keith’s lips are chapped but what else was he to expect from someone who cared so little about their appearance they thought a mullet was an acceptable hairstyle.

“Coming right up, Kogane.” Lance murmurs, well, as much as he can with the loud music. He doesn’t miss Keith’s widening eyes when he moves, grinning to himself as he goes to get their drinks. 

He shimmies his way between two aliens to the beat of the music to reach the bartender, and soon returns with two drinks in hand. He passes one to Keith with a “Drink up!”

Keith eyes it, more orange and yellow than the menu’s picture. “It looks like a sunset.”

Lance stares at him for a moment, then at his drink, nodding. “It tastes like one, too.”

“That doesn’t make sense.” Keith says, sipping his drink carefully up through the straw.

Lance shrugs, and starts to down the refreshing beverage, the cool tang of it a blessing in the humid club.

“This is pretty good!” Keith says. He’s half finished already. Lance has to drink it a little slower, or he’ll get brain freeze. He doesn’t say this, though.

Lance nods, smiling again. In the hectic lights of the club Keith’s eyes look more deep purple than blue, and Lance finds himself thinking of the sky all over again. He takes another sip.

“Good enough that you’re in the mood for dancing? I’m gonna go back out there after this.” Lance says, tipping his glass from side to side. He likes that little beach umbrella’s are universal. He wouldn’t mind dancing with Keith.

Keith drinks some more, eyeing the dance floor. “I can’t dance.”

“No one here can dance.” Lance shrugs. “That’s why it’s fun, you know?”

Keith looks like he doesn’t really get it. “You can dance, though. I was watching you.”

Lance  chokes on his beverage, and coughs into his arm. “Dude.”

“What?” Keith asks. 

Lance stares at him. Why the hell was he always so blunt? He downs what’s left of his drink, wincing at the sharp cool pain it brings to his head. He flattens his tongue against the roof of his mouth, trying to still the ebbing freeze.

“Nothing.” Lance says. He watches as Keith finishes off his ‘Kiss on the Lips’. “C’mon, dance with me.”

Keith doesn’t look like he’ll budge, but Lance blesses whatever courage the alcohol gives him because after a moment he takes Lance’s outstretched hand.

Lance smiles wide and pulls him into the crowd. He turns around, letting go of Keith’s hand and dancing backwards, trying hard not to laugh at his awkward stillness amongst the movement.

“It’s fun being better than you at stuff.” Lance shouts at him, even though they’re pressed close between the bumping dancefloor.

Keith rolls his eyes.

“Loosen up a bit.” Lance says. “Your drink will kick in soon.”

Keith looks awkward, motionless amongst the swinging hips and crowded bodies.

“ _ Move _ , Keith! You look stupid just standing there.” Lance says, uncrossing Keith’s arms for him. He takes his hands, doing a silly little dance move that makes him crack a smile. “Just swing your hips with the music, it’s not hard!”

Keith jumps when Lance’s hands settle on his hips, guiding them. Keith tries to follow Lance’s rhythm, and Lance giggles at the boxiness of his movement.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re concentrating really hard. You’re too stiff.” Lance laughs.

“I’m trying.” Keith says. 

“Here.” Lance says, brilliant idea gracing his buzzed mind. Honestly, he should have started with this from the get-go. He spins Keith around, pulling his backside flush against him, steadying his hips into a sway that mimics his own. Brilliant idea? Terrible? Both, probably, because Keith’s ass feels a lot fuller than it looks, and Lance has had his fair share of ogling, if he’s being completely honest. 

Lance focuses on dancing instead of the quick dip of arousal in his lower stomach, and concentrates on making Keith’s hips sway until he’s moving them on his own, pressing back.

“There you go.” Lance says, speaking right next to Keith’s ear. His hands slide down to where his hips meet his thighs and he feels Keith jump at the touch, and press into him further. 

Lance smiles, detaching himself and turning Keith to face him again. Keith’s face is flushed pink, and he’s smiling with an enviably even grin that should be illegal in at least every single galaxy, for the way it makes heat pool between his legs.

“You make a figure eight.” Lance says, voice barely audible, he’s aware. He can smell sweetness on his own breath as he rests his forehead against Keith’s, watching the way his hips move under the guidance of his hands. He likes the way his hands look, and the way his tan skin is stark against the paleness peeking out from under Keith’s tight black shirt, rising up with his movements. He almost bites his tongue at his next words, but he’s already pressed against him way closer than what could be considered normal bro behaviour - at least, when he and Hunk dance like this it’s usually more dramatic and there’s a lot more laughter involved. So Lance goes for it. He can blame his measly three space drinks on it, if he has to.“You’re kinda hot, you know.”

“Yeah, it’s warm in here.” Keith nods.

Lance almost stutters in his dancing, but not before he laughs hard, and loud. Keith is looking at him with confusion, but he can’t care enough to explain - he just needs a moment, or three. Keith’s fingers curl in the damp hair at the base of his neck.

Lance is still laughing to himself, and Keith shoots him a look, making Lance just press his lips together instead.

The music transition is loud and awkward, but Lance dances through it like it’s nothing, helping Keith along. He pulls at his belt loops, grinds up against him, feeling Keith’s blunt nails dig slightly into the skin of his shoulders. Keith looks kind of funny, not moving his upper body as much as he probably should be, but Lance doesn’t mind - he actually got Keith to dance this much, after all.

Lance can feel him knit his fingers tightly together behind his neck, and sees the hesitancy in his motion as he copies Lance’s gyrating movements, curiosity in wide blown eyes. 

“I meant…” Lance says. He fits his hands firmly against Keith’s sides, shifting them upwards before dragging down, trying to make his point clear. “You  _ look _ hot. Dancing. Your body.”

Lance knows his words are disjointed but it’s all he can manage with dark eyes sparking with realization, both of their faces turning pink.

“Do you want to kiss me?” Keith asks.

Lance definitely stutters, now. He feels his jaw drop as he stares at Keith, who’s looking at him with a mixture of annoyance and expectancy.

Lance’s mouth falls open, eyes wide. “Do you  _ have _ a filter, dude?”

“Fine, I’ll just go-”

“Hey, hey, hold on, I wasn’t sayin’ no.” Lance mutters, catching his arm. “‘Course I wanna make out with you, dude. God. Fuck. Let’s go.”

Lance pulls Keith from the crowd, the edging arousal he’d pushed down while dancing jolting down through his stomach and coursing right to the tips of his fingers. 

“We gotta let Shiro know-” Keith says, and Lance turns around to question him.

“What? That we’re about to make out?” Lance says.

“No, dumbass, that we’re leaving.” Keith says. The tips of his ears are red. 

“Oh.” Lance says. “I’ll just send a message to Pidge, she’ll see it.”

One hand still in Keith’s, the other on the holographic telephone Pidge whipped up for the team, he types out a quick message.

 

Lance is power walking towards the castleship, the air outside the club foreign but refreshing.

He suddenly has a better idea. A much,  _ much, _ better idea. He changes course.

“Where are we going?” Keith asks.

“Blue.” Lance says, smirking back at him. 

Keith halts. “What!”

“What what?” Lance says. “She won’t mind. We know each other well.”

“Oh my  god .” Keith whispers. He starts walking, though, and follows Lance inside. Lance notices the way he avoids looking Blue in the eye.

As soon as Keith is inside Lance presses him up against a cool metal wall, hands on his hips and lips on his neck. He smells like sweat and dry shampoo, and his skin is soft and it gives easily under the pressure of his wet lips.

Keith’s hands aren’t on him anywhere. Lance brush’s Keith’s jaw with his nose, eyelashes fluttering against his skin.

“Do I have to teach you how to do this, too?” Lance asks, teasing tone never leaving.

“Shut up.” Keith says.

“I don’t mind.” Lance says, pulling back enough to look at Keith’s blushing face, dark eyes and thick eyelashes fanning out over his high cheekbones. He slowly runs his hands down Keith’s arms, hoping he can’t feel the shaking. It was one thing to flirt and not get anywhere. It was another thing to flirt and have it work. It was another thing again to have it work with  _ Keith _ .

He moves Keith’s hands to his hips, and leans his body weight against him, tucking a slender leg neatly between Keith’s thighs. He brushes his fingers lightly over Keith’s jaw, letting them tangle in his dark hair, tugging him forward slightly to press his mouth to full lips.

Lance wastes no time pulling Keith into a quick rhythm, sucking on his pout and slipping his tongue inside to trace behind his even teeth. He tastes like sugar and peaches, frozen mangoes and grenadine. The sunset still on his lips and on his tongue, he tastes like everything Lance misses. He huffs out a breath against his mouth, and Keith takes the moment to mimic kissing down Lance’s neck. Keith’s fingers dig hard into his sides, and Lance grinds up into him shamelessly when Keith sucks carefully on his skin. 

He lets his hands roam free over Keith’s chest, around his middle, fingers slipping under his shirt to trace down the dip of his spine, lifting past his belt and into the curve of his ass. Keith hisses and arches into Lance’s touch, and Lance can feel his erection as a heavy press against his thigh.

“This isn’t much different from your ‘dancing’.” Keith says, his breath hot on his skin.

Lance pauses at Keith’s weighted stare, chewing on his lip. Keith’s lips are full and bitten, and the junction of his shoulder peeks out a purple bruise beneath the collar of his shirt.

“Do you wanna...” Lance starts, stepping back. In the low humming blue lights, Keith’s skin is glowing. Which is unfair, really, because Lance knows he doesn’t have a beauty routine. “Move inside?” 

The low gravelly sound of his voice surprising. Keith nods, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. Lance opens the doors to the cockpit, feeling a hum of amusement from Blue which he decides to tactfully ignore.

Lance feels hot, much warmer than he did while he was dancing. He tugs his shirt over his head, aiming to toss it aside, but he holds it to his chest for a moment longer when he sees Keith staring.

“You too, dude.” Lance says, finally dropping it. He tugs on the hem of Keith’s black tee. He helps him peel it up over his head, eyes falling on his toned stomach and pert, pink nipples. “Unfair.”

“What?” Keith says, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “If you’d actually train you’d gain some muscle, you know.”

Keith goes to remove his gloves and Lance stills his hands. Keith’s eyebrows shoot up and he smirks at him.

“Knew you liked them.”

“Shut up.” Lance says, kissing him, tips of his ears burning, giving him away. He sits in his pilot’s chair, smirking up as Keith has to make the move to swing his legs over him. He’s grateful for the width of the seat, able to spread his legs and let Keith grind down onto his erection. 

He kisses Keith’s mouth, his neck, his collarbone, biting down. He kisses Keith’s chest, one hand teasing the V of his waist, the other brushing softly over a nipple. Lance can hear his heartbeat, and see the flutter of his stomach when he presses the palm of his hand against the bulge in Keith’s pants.

Keith groans, and Lance feels the sound right to his core, his erection straining against his jeans.

“Let me take my pants off.” Keith says, pushing off the chair for a moment. Lance sets to removing his jeans, and figures since they’ll get there eventually, his boxers can go, too.  He crouches down to the glove compartment (the safe?) and retrieves the ‘multi-purpose’ goo he stealthily coerced from Coran.

He actually whimpers when he sees Keith standing there, cast in the blue glow of the control board, the muscles of his arms and back defined in shadow, hips cocked and tying his hair back into a short ponytail. He’s still in his tight (rose coloured) briefs, half-hard cock straining and outlined in the dim light. Lance steps into his space again, kissing his shoulder, his neck, and his mouth. He tangles his fingers into his hair and pulls him down with him as he sits in the chair, the cool metal a shock on his naked bum, but it only makes him grin. 

Keith breathes heavy, a knee resting between Lance’s thighs as he leans over him, gaze lingering on Lance’s mouth with a concentrated stare. Lance lifts his neck up when Keith kisses it, bites down hard. He doesn’t try to quiet the sharp sound that he lets out. He shudders when gloves hands push his thighs apart.

“Madre María.” Lance whispers under his breath, looking at Keith, who’s kissing down his chest, settling himself on the floor in front of him. Keith’s gaze flickers over his body, making him flush, nervous and excited. 

“Who’s Maria?” Keith asks, and Lance laughs, thinking he’s joking at first, but then he realizes this idiot is  _ Keith,  _ and he practically cackles. “C’mon, Lance, you’re killing my boner!”

“Oh my  _ god _ .” Lance whispers, tears in the corners of his eyes. “Shut up, I’ll explain later.”

He leans forward to kiss him, mouth still smiling, giggling now more at the teasing touches of Keith’s gloved hands against his sides.

“Can I try something?” Keith asks. 

“Anything.” Lance nods, his cock hard and stiff against his stomach.

“Anything?” Keith lifts an eyebrow, and  _ por dios  _ he should not be allowed to look that attractive. 

“Dude.” Lance says, steading his gaze. “Anything.”

Keith looks like he regrets himself now, so Lance keeps talking.

“Just because I’m up for it doesn’t mean you are, I get it, blah, blah, blah.” Lance rolls his eyes. “What do you want to do to me?”

Keith looks shocked at those last words, and Lance is surprised at himself for delivering them so fluidly. Keith clears his throat, and just tugs on Lance, pulling him closer. “Let me suck your dick.”

Lance shivers, he can feel precome beading at the tip of his erection as he moved forward in his seat. Keith swings one of his legs up over his thick shoulder. The fabric of his gloves is warm on his thighs and Lance’s cock gives a twitch, leaking.

He moans at the first touch of Keith’s fingers. He can feel the callouses from training on the flat of his skin, before his covered palm takes him, testing his weight. Lance finds his fingers in Keith’s hair as he leans in, fumbling his mouth against his dick. He isn’t opening up for it yet, but instead he brushes his lips across the head, eyes closed. Lance wishes his eyelashes looks as nice as Keiths. A flicker of tongue makes his thighs shake, and yeah, he should be concentrating on lasting long enough for this to feel good rather than eyelashes, no matter how pretty they were. 

Keith takes him in his mouth, hot and wet and he must’ve predicted the stutter of Lance’s hips because he keeps them steady with his hands. Lance whines over him when his tongue drags up the underside, and he sucks on the head. It’s obvious he’s never done this before, but the sloppiness is endearing, and Lance likes the way spit shines his lips and he drools a little at the corners of his mouth.

Keith hums around him, and Lance babbles his praises, aware of the tense grip of Keith’s fingers on his hips, but his hands are tangled in his stupid, slightly greasy, wonderful mullet, Keith’s mouth making lewd noises as he sucks on his cock.

“ _ Dios _ Keith, lord, este debe ser el cielo, que tiene que ser, debe ser, I take back everything I said about your mullet and your party bones, este- ” Lance yelps at Keith’s pinch at the sensitive skin of his hip, his glare probably due to the way his cock twitches in interest.

“Shut  _ up _ .”Keith says, and Lance’s cock jumps again, from seeing the way his lips are shined with spit and precum. “You’re so damn noisy.”

“But you’re so good at this.” Lance says,  _ whines _ , fingers untangling from Keith’s hair. He likes the surprise in Keith’s eyes, and the uncharacteristic shyness of his averted gaze. He wants to make him feel good.

Lance coaxes him upward and into his lap, fingers against his soft, full cheeks. He fits his legs on either side of him and holds Keith through his briefs, his erection pulling the fabric in a tight tent, a damp spot on the front. He leans forward and mouths him through the thin fabric, before pulling them down, biting the curse on his lips when Keith almost slips pulling them off, his elbow knocking him in the head.

“You’re good, but I’m better.” Lance says, smirking up at Keith. He leans forward and kisses a mole that’s just under his ribs. He flattens his tongue and licks down Keith’s stomach, his lips trailing in a motion that makes Keith fumble for support on the headrest. He teases his kisses along the tight skin under Keith’s waist until he’s breathing out in soft pants. 

He squeezes Keith’s thighs, rubs them up and down until one hand teases its featherlight touch to his tight balls. Lance lifts them, licks at them wetly, Keith’s cock pressed against his face. He drags his teeth lightly up over the sensitive skin, and Keith gasps sharply. Lance smirks. Figures he’d be into it.

Keith tries to roll his hips to find friction. Lance relents, sucking on his swollen head, the bitter taste of precome against his tongue welcome. He takes him in slowly, but doesn’t stop Keith’s hips from stuttering upwards into his mouth, and he doesn’t mind Keith’s hand on his head only halfheartedly refraining from pushing his face onto his cock.

Lance’s fingers slip behind his balls, pressing upwards into the soft skin, and Keith keens, he _ moans _ , pressing his body down into Lance’s touch.

“Dude.” Lance says, blushing hard. He knocks Keith’s hand off of his head and reaches for the make-shift space lube he dropped on the chair somewhere - it rolled into the corner. Keith’s eyes are closed, his arms braced over Lance, gripping the headrest. He opens his eyes though, and stares down at Lance, when he hears the bottle opening. “Is this okay?” Lance wiggles his fingers.

“Yeah.” Keith nods. Hair is falling around his face, damp, sticking to his skin and framing his pretty face. “Yes.”

Lance rubs the slippery substance between his fingers, and handles Keith’s balls again, fingers teasing behind them. “Have you done this before?”

“Lance, I already said I hadn’t kissed anyone before, what makes you think I’ve done this? Dumbass.”

“You didn’t say you’ve never kissed anyone!” Lance says, almost dropping the bottle.

Keith looks at him pensively. “Oh. Well I meant to.”

Lance rolls his eyes. “Besides, I  _ meant, _ like, have you done this to _ yourself _ ?”

“Oh.” Keith says. He’s quiet, and Lance looks up at him, impatient.

“I’m asking so I know if  _ you _ know how it’s gonna feel, I don’t want you to lose your boner because you realize you don’t like having my fingers up your ass.”

“Lance!” Keith groans. “Yeah, I’ve tried it. Go ahead.”

“Finally,  _ por dios _ Keith.” Lance huffs. He takes Keith’s dick in his slippery hand, pumping it slowly, getting him hard. He toys the slit with his tongue. He teases a finger against Keith’s hole, pressing against it, all while holding Keith’s heated gaze.

“Fuck, Lance.” Keith sighs, pressing into his touch.

Lance’s stomach flips at his name spilling from Keith’s mouth, and he adds a little more lube just to be sure. He’s sure Keith notices that he forgoes warming it between his fingers when he presses them against his hole. 

Lance is mesmerized. He’s done this before. To himself, that is. But never to someone else. His cock aches at the sight of the pinkness against his fingertips. He presses one finger in slowly, easily, the heat intense. He slides it in and out until Keith loosens up a little, then adds a second finger carefully, minding the stretch. He reaches down, clumsy with his left hand, and starts to stroke himself, watching his fingers disappear into the deep heat.

“I can’t believe this.” Lance whispers out, unaware of himself as he curls his long fingers inside of Keith, _ inside him _ , brushing against the spot he’d been looking for. Keith whines low and guarded, a gloved hand reaching for his dick which Lance has, oops, forgotten. Somehow. While it’s hanging thick and heavy right in front of his face.

“Hey, hey.” Lance says, knocking his hand away. “Let me do it.”

“Are you gonna stop talk-” Keith is cut off by curled fingers, and braces himself, thighs shivering around him. He glares at Lance, sweat beading down his temple to hover on his chin. Leans leans up and kisses it away.

Lance smirks at him and shrugs. “Can’t talk with a dick in my mouth.”

“You’d be the one to manage.” Keith mutters, narrowing his eyes at him.

“You flatter me.”

Keith groans in annoyance, but it turns into an impatient whine when Lance laps at the precome dribbling from his cock. It’s hard to pay attention to Keith’s dick when he’s teasing his hole, stretching him open, and has his free hand on his own hardness.

He huffs and lets go of his own erection, working doubly now to get Keith off, all the little muted sounds he’s making going straight to his aching cock. Lance takes him as far into his mouth as he can manage and swallows, dark hair brushing his nose. He fits a hand on Keith’s ass to squeeze it hard, spreading his cheeks and fucking into him with his slender fingers until Keith’s gloved hand reaches for Lance’s hair, the fabric rough on his skin as he pulls in warning, but Lance sinks in deeper, looking up at him with lidded eyes. He feels Keith’s ass spasm around his fingers, cum shooting into his mouth in long heavy spurts. He feels some drip from his mouth. He pulls back slowly, keeping his eyes locked with Keith’s, so he can see his dick slide through the cum on his tongue before he swallows. Keith is breathing heavily, the force of his orgasm making his belly jump with every erratic beat of his heart. Lance circles his fingers, still inside him, making Keith’s voice go high in a soft moan. He pulls them out, and Keith’s lets himself fall around him, heavy and hot on his lap, neck to neck, chest to chest, dick to dick. Except Lance’s dick was still hard.

“Did you come?” Keith asks. He sounds out of breath, much like he does after he’s been training. Lance tries not to establish the connection, for his own sake. Keith wiggles his hips, and Lance gasps and grabs at Keith’s sides.

“No.” Lance says. “I’m close.”

Keith pushes his sweaty hair out of his face and kisses him hard, mouth full of his cum and all. Lance moves his grip to Keith’s shoulders, to his back, fingernails dragging maybe a little too hard into his skin when he feels a gloved hand on his his dick. He thrusts up into his fist.

“Keith,  _ por _ -mmph!”

“You’re so fucking noisy.” Keith says, two fingers shoved into Lance’s mouth. Lance resists the urge to bite on them, but he sucks on them sloppily, still moaning around them - feeling the fabric dampen from his spit and Keith’s cum. 

Lance feels his ears flush and his balls tighten and  _ wow _ he should have seen that coming. Keith brushes his thumb over Lance’s slit without finesse, and Lance moans around Keith’s fingers when he comes into his hand, hips rolling and sticky body pressed flush against him.

Keith removes his fingers when Lance’s shivering subsides, wet links of drool dripping away from them. Lance stares at him, blinking slowly out of his daze.

Keith shakes off his hand, and peels off his dirty gloves, dropping them to the floor. He leans back into Lance, who lazily drapes his arms around him.

“So on a scale of one to ten, how good would you rate sex with me.” Lance asks, mumbling into his shoulder, and Keith is groaning before he even finishes the sentence.

“I can’t believe I did that. With  _ you _ .”

“Hey!” Lance pulls back. Keith looks blissed out and tired, pink still riding high on his cheeks, sweat pushing his hair back in disarray. He’s gorgeous.“You were totally into me!”

“Yes Lance, your bony body is exactly what I needed.” Keith says, deadpan.

Lance frowns, a little offended. He presses his fingers on Keith’s chest, dragging them mindlessly over his soft skin. His mouth feels kinda dry. From Keith’s dick and the alcohol, he thinks, cheeks ruddy in the afterglow. Lance reaches for one of Keith’s hands and holds it up in front of him, tracing the indentations from fabric with his fingers. “Well, I think you’re a ten.”

Keith’s eyebrows lift up. “Just wait until I actually know what I’m doing.”

Lance’s fingers jump a little at the thought, and Keith laughs. He leans into Keith again, burying his face into his hair. “Can we cuddle?”

“Can you not talk?” Keith says. “We stink. We gotta shower.”

“Fuck you, you love my mouth..” Lance says, boneless. “We’ll shower in a bit. You’re the one always goin’ on about cradling me in your arms, anyways.”

Keith snorts, the air ruffling Lance’s hair. “So. You have lube in your Lion?”

“Don’t tell me you’ve  _ never _ masturbated in your lion before.” Lance says, genuinely shocked. 

Keith shrugs.

Lance rubs his nose on Keith’s shoulder, squeezing his eyes shut, letting his eyelashes blink against his skin. “Well. We can change that.”

**Author's Note:**

> the line about 70% emo introspection was all hanana banana's (@ennvshita on tumblr) who also helped me so much with this fic omg thank you mom
> 
> lance's spanish is "oh this must be heaven, it has to be, it must be"  
> and "madre maria" is "mother mary" !
> 
> i really wanted to write voltron smut but it's kinda ooc huh (vnv)>" I'll try to work on that too~~
> 
> @cattchi on tumblr and @_cattchi on twitter if u want to chat about Voltron!!!! i love Voltron!!!!!!!!! ♡ॢ₍⸍⸌̣ʷ̣̫⸍̣⸌₎


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